Ceiling Scorch Marks
by Izupie
Summary: Bakugou is a hot sleeper, so he could do without Ochako clinging to him in her sleep! But maybe being up in the middle of the night sweating is actually a blessing in disguise- it gives Bakugou the unexpected chance to get something off his chest. (Ochako will take any opportunity to tease and flirt with her boyfriend so she's fine with whatever time it is.) (Kacchako) (Fluff)


**Ceiling Scorch Marks**

* * *

"Ochako." Bakugou's voice rumbled into the darkness of their bedroom, slightly muffled by the pillow that one side of his face was buried in.

"Mmh?" Ochako only managed a tired and contended hum in response. She nuzzled her face closer to her boyfriend's bare chest, grateful that he only wore sleeping shorts in bed, and realised she must have moved down the bed and clung to him in her sleep again. Her body was curled into Bakugou's front, her legs were tangled with his, and one of her arms was resting up by his neck. The quilt rustled as she moved a hand to lightly skim circles over his skin with one of her finger pads, waiting for him to continue. She noticed his skin was slightly clammy and damp, and she could feel the heat coming from him even through the fabric of one his old shirts that she slept in.

He inhaled deeply and then spoke with a voice made low and deep from sleep, so that it was barely more than a growl, "Are you trying to fucking kill me?"

Ochako's toes curled at the sound. She could faintly smell something like gun powder and burning - like the pleasant smoky scent that lingered when she stuck her nose inside a used party popper. She shifted slightly to bring her mouth up to the pulse in the base of his neck (which visibly sped up as her breath tickled the skin there).

"Mmm," she hummed again, "death by snuggles doesn't sound like a bad way to go..."

He sighed. "You'd get that shit chiselled on my gravestone too wouldn't you," Bakugou grumbled, but she thought she could hear a ghost of a smile in his voice.

Ochako gasped. "Would I?"

"I know you fucking would."

She smiled playfully at his grouchy reply, her lips still pressed into the soft skin at his neck. "You're so grumpy when you wake up," she said brightly, feeling more awake, despite the darkness and the late hour.

"'S what happens when I wake up in the _middle of the night_ with my suicidal g-irlfriend _attached_ to me, covering us both-"

"And the bed," she added, trying not to let out a giggle at the way Bakugou's voice still hitched a little on the word 'girlfriend', despite the two years they'd been dating since they graduated high school. Ochako still found it adorable.

"- _and the fucking bed_ \- in explosive sweat," Bakugou complained loudly, "I swear you've got a goddamn death wish or something."

Despite his complaining, she noticed he wasn't making any efforts to move her or himself out of the position they were in.

"I was sleep hugging again. You know, like sleep walking. Except with less walking, and more hugging," she explained.

"That's not a real thing!"

"Eh? Sure it is! You know what, I'll get my phone and Google it, I bet it's a thing." Ochako began to wiggle out of the clingy position she'd put them in, making the bed quilt rustle loudly, and she said gently, "I should move anyway, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable afterall."

For all her teasing, she really did feel a pang of guilt for putting him into a situation he wasn't happy with - she had absolutely no fear of him accidentally setting off his quirk, but she knew it was something that bothered him... But he was always so warm, like a human hot water bottle, and she loved him so much... Nothing made her happier than when they were close, so it was only natural that she should gravitate to him in her sleep, when she had no control over her body.

Ochako had shifted herself back over to her side of the bed, turned away from him, and was just about to reach for her phone when she felt a strong arm pull her, almost roughly, back into his solid chest. She squeaked, "K-Katsuki?"

Bakugou held her tightly with both arms wrapped around her middle, and kept their bodies pressed together by his firm grip. Her back was against his front now, with her head just below his chin; he was so much taller than her, she could nestle right into his embrace. They just... fit together.

"Like hell could you make me uncomfortable. I didn't even say that." He snapped into her hair.

Ochako smiled warmly, entwining her fingers with his, and brought his hands to her mouth. She kissed them softly. His hands were slick with sweat, but underneath she could still feel the callous, thick skin, marked with a criss-cross of rough scars, and they smelt strongly like the acrid burning of fireworks, as if they were permanently infused with the scent of something exploding. His arms and chest were still clammy and damp, and she could feel her own sleeping shirt sticking to her back from the shared body heat. But she didn't mind.

She loosened their hands and wriggled so that she could pull herself around and face him again. It was still too dark to see him clearly, but she could just about make out his expression; it was something soft and tender that she knew she was privileged and blessed to see. It wasn't very often there was no angry line between his eyebrows or a cocky grin full of teeth and attitude. Ochako reached up with a hand to cup one of his cheeks and leant his face down towards her. "You know I love you, right?" She asked seriously.

Bakugou swallowed loudly. "Yeah, 'cause you're an idiot," he eventually rumbled with a frown, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

She pouted.

He snorted a laugh. "Shit, it might be dark, but I know that look - you're going to launch me into the sun for that the next time we train aren't you."

"You know it," she huffed, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. "You know, some boyfriends just reply that they love their girlfriends too when they say nice stuff like that."

His red eyes were almost black in the shadows, but she could see them lock onto her own. Her hand was still resting on his cheek, his still hovering up by her ear. She waited for a response, but he only stared intensely back at her, the crease between his eyebrows returning as he obviously fought to push back the initial outburst he wanted to bite back at her. It was something he was doing more and more, and she respected him so much for it - so she waited.

Ochako never once doubted his feelings for her, really. She was just teasing. Ever since their very first fight in the Sports Festival she'd felt something special for him, and their subsequent years at UA only seemed to fan those small secret feelings into something strong and long-lasting. She fell in love with him. And it was only down to an odd set of circumstances in their third-year prom that she found out he'd fallen for her just as hard. At first her friends had been concerned when they got together after graduation, but she'd waved off their well-intentioned troubles with ease. Nobody else ever seemed to see in him what she did. They didn't see what he'd spent years pushing down into himself; vulnerability, fear, pain, tenderness, kindness... and love.

Ochako felt a blush rising in her already warm cheeks and was glad he wouldn't be able see it in the darkness, so he couldn't tease her about how easily she blushed again.

Ultimately their relationship was built on a healthy dose of good natured teasing, usually more on her part, if she was being honest (she loved seeing him flustered), admiration and respect. He would tell anyone with a completely straight face how she was 'the best girl in the world' and he was constantly aggressively promoting her to reporters and agencies. He was a budding successful pro already, despite only being on the scene properly for a few years, and he was already earning a good wage. But he'd let it slip one day, when he had come home from a job completely exhausted and less emotionally guarded, that he was saving all the money he earned so that they could become pros _together at_ _their own agency_. Ochako's own quirk was less flashy than her boyfriend's explosions, so although she'd gotten a decent job as a sidekick she was climbing the ladder at a more realistic pace in a smaller agency than Bakugou. She couldn't believe he was working so hard to do something like that, especially after how hard they'd both worked already to buy their own house.

But he had always been about more actions and less words. The times his feelings were so plainly written on his face when he looked at her still filled her tummy with butterflies. Even when she came in from hero work, covered in a new layer of dirt and blood and bandages, or when he would wash it all away gently for her in the shower, even those times she would try to cook him a meal and nearly set the apartment on fire again, or when she pulled his arm sharply to stop him in the street simply because she'd seen an adorable cat... even when they would train together and she'd kick his ass, hair plastered to her face from the sweat, chest heaving from the effort... Even when she woke him up in the middle of the night, clinging so tightly that it was enough for him to sweat all over the bedsheets, igniting his secret fear that he could accidentally set off his quirk and hurt her.

She knew he didn't need to tell her that he loved her back. Not really. He said it in so many more ways that just the simple words.

Bakugou pushed both hands into her hair so that he was holding her head gently between them, with his thumbs resting on her squishy cheeks. "Stare any harder and you're gonna burn a damn hole through me."

His deep voice snapped Ochako out of her thoughts and she blinked rapidly. "Eh?" She squeaked. "Oh, no - I was just thinking."

They were both silent, then he began to stroke her cheeks with his thumbs and she melted into the affectionate gesture.

Finally Bakugou spoke, but his voice was almost a yell, laced with an explosive mixture of frustration, irritation and worry, "Fuck- I- look, Ochako, I'm not- I fucking- argh, why is this so _fucking hard!_ They're three shitty ass words!"

Oh. He must have thought she was lost in thought before because she was upset with him, because of what she said about other boyfriends saying I love you. And now he was annoyed with himself because he still couldn't say it out loud. She knew he must be flustered; he was swearing even worse than usual.

To her, he was an open book.

Ochako lifted a leg and straddled it around his hips, speaking with a firm voice, "Katsuki."

His whole body tensed up.

She knew that would get his attention.

"I was just teasing before. You don't have to say anything you're not comfortable with. It's okay. Your own pace is the best pace." She gave him a dazzling smile. "I mean, I already know how you feel - that's what I was thinking about. And I am sorry," she added, "for the sleep hugging. You're kind of irresistible, even while I'm sleeping," she confessed.

He made a choking sound and his voice steadily rose in volume and speed, as if it was exploding out of him as he spoke, " _I'm irresisti-_ fuck me- do you know how hard it is to control myself when I wake up and you're practically _on me_ and I'm sweating fucking buckets because you're making me hot _in every fucking way_ and you're in my old shirt that's way too big but it looks so good on you because you're so _goddamn perfect_ and I love you _so fucking much_ that my hands feel like they're on _fire._ " He heaved a breath.

Ochako was stunned. "You... You said..." She whispered.

Only then did he seem to realise what he'd said to her and Bakugou crashed her into his chest, hugging her tightly and holding her body close enough so that she couldn't see his face. His hands were burning hot against her skin. "Yeah," he snapped into her hair, "what about what I said? If I said it, I mean it. I'm not taking it back."

She wrapped her own arms tight around his neck and buried her face into his collar bone, Bakugou's whole body was solid muscle, and now he kind of smelt like a bonfire. She left her leg draped over his hip. "What sort of hero would you be if you didn't stand by the things you say," she agreed, her tone light, and her smile even wider than before.

He was obviously embarrassed by his outburst, but he hadn't exploded anything yet, and that was a real improvement. She was a little concerned about the heat in his hands though. And the heat everywhere else too, she thought, as he shifted a little.

The room was still dark, so the sun clearly hadn't risen yet, and it must still be late, but it was a rare day off for them both tomorrow, so it wasn't like they had to be up early in the morning. They could spend the whole rest of the night awake if they wanted to and their hero work wouldn't suffer for it...

"You know," she began in a coy whisper, "I'm painting those scorch marks on the ceiling tomorrow, so it wouldn't matter if we added some more tonight."

Bakugou let out a huff of air somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "The way I am tonight, we'd need to buy a new _roof_ tomorrow."

"Katsuki!" Ochako gasped. "Do you know how much a new roof costs?"

But she could feel the heat from his hands, that he was now skimming up and down her back, and she had her doubts over whether that was an exaggeration or not.

"If someone stopped floating us up there it wouldn't be a problem," he shot back, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

She rocked her hips a little in revenge, and heard his sharp intake of breath. He really was irresistible.

"The roof will have to take its chances," she declared, flipping Bakugou onto his back and straddling him in one swift movement.

Then any thoughts of roofs or ceiling scorch marks faded away as their lips crashed together.


End file.
